Blue Christmas
by Nytd
Summary: The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle: a light version in verse. Merry Christmas!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** After enjoying MrsPencil's SH pieces so much, including her _Moor Verse _and _Sound and Motion _series, I decided to have a little fun trying my hand at converting _The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle_ to verse in time for the holidays. Based more on the Granada version. Hope you enjoy! :)

**Blue Christmas**

~o~

Twas the season of Christmas

And things were not well

With the Countess of Morcar

At the Cosmopolitan Hotel

~o~

It seemed that the grate

Suffered deterioration

And John Horner was called

To achieve restoration

~o~

He said not a word

But went straight to his work

Not knowing what fate for him

Shortly did lurk

~o~

A small job to do

He sorted it all out

Til Cusack the maid

Exclaimed with a shout

~o~

The Countess is back!

She said with some dread

If she finds you still here

Then it'll mean my head

~o~

So Ryder the attendant

And Cusack the maid

Sent Horner out the door

Assuring he'd be paid

~o~

A scream pierced the room

And the halls of the hotel

Things at the old Cosmo'

Were still quite unwell

~o~

The Countess was missing

Her precious blue stone

That Horner had taken it

Seemed already known

~o~

And so Scotland Yard

Sent Inspector Bradstreet

To wrap up the case

All tidy and neat.

~o~

On the day before Christmas

I returned to my flat

Where Holmes lounged staring

At a battered old hat

~o~

I supposed that poor thing

Told of something quite criminal

Not at all, said Holmes

Just an incident whimsical

~o~

It seems that Peterson

The good Commissionaire

Ended up with the hat

After quite an affair

~o~

While on his way home

From a bit of celebration

He encountered a drunk

Enduring molestation

~o~

Some ruffians harassed him

Knocked the hat from his head

He raised his stick in defense

And broke a window instead

~o~

Peterson _tried_ intervening

Alas to no avail

His uniform had told them

That they might go to jail

~o~

The roughs all took off

Up Tottenham Court Road

The drunk bolted too

Abandoning his load

~o~

A goose, what a bird!

Quite the Christmas feast maker

A tag on its leg read:

For Mrs. Henry Baker

~o~

So Peterson brought me

The hat and the bird

Knowing odd problems

To be my preferred

~o~

The goose I sent with him

To grace his own table

From the hat, I deduced

As best I was able

~o~

I see nothing here, Holmes

I said to my friend

From what I observe

We're at a dead end

~o~

Not at all, my dear fellow

Holmes said with a grin

There is much to be learned

If one knows where to begin

~o~

Henry Baker is a man

Of learning and sagacity

Simple to deduce

From sheer cubic capacity

~o~

His wife does not love him

She doesn't brush his hat

He has gone down in the world

The older style tells us that

~o~

A man who is graying

And uses lime-cream

He's been to the barber

It's all here at the seam

~o~

A broken elastic

His foresight now wanes

His dignity he keeps

With ink to hide stains

~o~

One final thing

My companion did quip

There's no gas at his house

For only candles will drip

~o~

I admitted it interesting

And also quite clever

But of what use, I asked

Is this mental endeavor?

~o~

Just then Peterson

Came in at a rush

He was flummoxed and winded

His face all a-flush

~o~

The goose, Mr. Holmes!

Near the door he did stop

You never will guess

What was in that bird's crop!

~o~

The biggest gem I've seen

Or I'm a monkey's uncle

No mere gem, replied Holmes

It's the Blue Carbuncle!

~o~

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Congratulations, Holmes said

For although you can't keep it

There's a reward; one thousand pounds

We shall see that you reap it.

~o~

Holmes read the crime report

To refresh the facts in his mind

And decided Henry Baker

Was the man we must find

~o~

He sent Peterson away

To go and buy a new bird

And to place an advertisement

Holmes wrote down every word

~o~

At our address on Baker Street

Not far from the end

The man would find hat

And fine feathered friend

~o~

We considered poor Horner

Until the clock struck six-thirty

Wondering if it was his hands

Or Baker's that were dirty.

~o~

At the time Holmes had indicated

There arrived a tall man

Who suffered from the cold

A Scotch bonnet in his hand

~o~

This hat, it is yours?

Holmes asked of our guest

Who seemed ill-used by fortune

By the way he was dressed

~o~

Most certainly, he said

That's my hat, good sir

But shillings are not

So plentiful as they were

~o~

I did not advertise for it

For it would be a waste of time

The roughs must have taken it

In their manner of crime

~o~

Well here is your hat

But as for the gander

We were compelled to eat him

Holmes said with all candor

~o~

To eat it! cried Baker

He seemed clearly distraught

But to replace it, Holmes said

Here's another we've bought

~o~

Mr. Baker showed cheer

At the goose on our sideboard

It certainly will do, he said

To have dinner restored

~o~

We still have the first's parts

The crop, feathers and beak

Holmes then said to Baker

Who might be the sneak

~o~

Thank you, said Baker

But dispose of them as you would

The disjecta membra

Will do me no good

~o~

Holmes said, here is you hat

And there is your bird

But before you leave

May I ask one final word?

~o~

I'm a fancier of fowl

Holmes then explained

Pray, where did you get

The one you obtained?

~o~

The Goose club, Baker said

Placing hat upon pate

At the good Alpha Inn

Owned by Mr. Windigate

~o~

Back out into the cold

Mr. Baker went with a grin

A much happier man

Than when he came in

~o~

But Sherlock Holmes never settled

For doing things half way

And he brushed past Mrs. Hudson

Who was bringing in a tray

~o~

We'll eat later, he said

Causing our landlady to scowl

We must follow up this clue

And trace the source of the fowl

~o~

We dashed out the door

To continue the case

I prayed our efforts would be brief

And not a wild goose chase

~o~

At the good Alpha inn

Helpful Windigate was present

At Covent Gardens, he said

They sell geese, duck and pheasant

~o~

It's Breckenridge you want

No better geese will you find

And Holmes was out the door

With me a few steps behind

~o~

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

At Covent Garden Market

I spotted the stall

Of the poulterer named Breckinridge

But it appeared he'd sold them all

~o~

Out of geese, I see

Holmes said to the gent

There'll be 500 in the morning

Was the replying comment

~o~

That won't do, said Holmes

I must have one tonight

And Breckenridge gestured

At another stall lit by gaslight

~o~

But I was directed here

Holmes persisted, of course

If you can't sell me one

Can you tell me their source?

~o~

Breckenridge became furious

He began to yell

Where he got the birds

He refused to tell

~o~

You needn't get so warm

Holmes replied to his outcry

You'd be warm, said the man

If you were as pestered as I

~o~

You'd think they were the only birds

From all the cry and hue

I wouldn't tell the other bloke

And I'm certainly not telling you

~o~

Well then the bet is off

And I was startled by Holmes' words

You see, I wagered a fiver

That those were country birds.

~o~

Well then you've lost your money

The poulterer firmly said

Them birds what went to the Alpha

Every one was town bred.

~o~

I'll bet you they weren't

Holmes said, baiting the hook

Breckenridge agreed to the bet

And turned to fetch his book

~o~

When all was said and done

It seemed Holmes had lost his bet

But a single coin had gained us

The address we'd come to get

~o~

So off to Mrs. Oakshott

Brixton Road was our next stop

Until we heard Breckenridge

Completely blow his top

~o~

Get out! he loudly said

To a rat-faced little gent

I've had enough of you

My patience is already spent!

~o~

But the goose! said the man

You don't understand

One of them was mine

The one with the gray band

~o~

But Breckenridge wouldn't hear it

I'm tired of your whining

You can ask Mrs. Oakshott

Or even Proosia's King!

~o~

Get out of it! he cried

Chasing the little man away

I think, said Holmes to me

That this is our lucky day

~o~

This fellow knows something

Of the business we do

And he said to the man

I believe I can help you

~o~

My name is Sherlock Holmes

I can tell you what Breckenridge won't

It is my business to know

What other people don't

~o~

The little man seemed surprised

As if something were amiss

But sir, he replied

You can know nothing of this

~o~

You trace geese from Mrs. Oakshott

Holmes said with a grin

That first went to Breckenridge

And then the Alpha Inn

~o~

You are just the man, he cried

That I have longed to meet

But Holmes decided to discuss

The rest at Baker Street

~o~

Sitting by the fire

Holmes asked the gent his name

John Robinson, he said

No knowing Holmes knew his game

~o~

The real one if you please

Holmes chided the little man

Ah, James Ryder, upper attendant

At the Hotel Cosmopolitan

~o~

It is not geese you seek

Just one that got away

It ended up here you see

A white one marked with gray

~o~

It did a curious thing

Which dead birds aren't wont to do

It laid a remarkable egg

Of the brightest, bonniest blue

~o~

Then Holmes held up the gem

And Ryder nearly fainted

I believe, said Holmes, that you and this stone

Are already well acquainted.

~o~

The game is up, the only chance

Is to hear the truth be told

I have every link in the chain

Except the one which you withhold

~o~

Then Ryder finally broke down

His face as white as bone

And told of how he planned

To steal precious stone

~0~

He'd blamed it all on Horner

Who had a checkered past

And while Horner was arrested

Made off with the gem quite fast

~o~

To Brixton Road he'd gone

To his sister, Mrs. Oakshott's home

Thinking over what to do

In the yard he watched the geese roam

~o~

Then suddenly it came to him

Just how to fool the police

And he shoved the stone in the crop

Of one of the milling geese

~o~

He declined the other bird

His sister had tucked away

And slaughtered his first pick

The white one banded with gray

~o~

But what he never suspected

When he carried the bird away

Was that he'd confused it with its twin

Another bird with some feathers of gray

~o~

When Ryder opened his empty goose

He realized he had the wrong game

And now his deceitful attempts at theft

Had him in trouble just the same

~o~

He begged on his knees for mercy

His face was deathly pale

But Holmes reminded him he hadn't

Thought of poor Horner stuck in jail

~o~

Get out, Holmes finally said

And he sent Ryder on his way

I may be abetting a felon

But it's nearly Christmas Day

~o~

So James Ryder got a second chance

John Horner was cleared and released

And Holmes and I toasted the season

Enjoying a belated Christmas feast.

~~o~~


End file.
